Fears
by emmeeh
Summary: Natasha has to face her greatest fear, involving the man she tries to forget. Quick Clintasha one-shot, might add more chapters later...


She knew better than to glance over her shoulder, but it was too late. Once Natasha's eyes laid upon the man she was desperately trying to escape, her legs froze. Fear and panic overtook her thoughts. All she could do was stand before the man she loved. The warehouse was eerily silent other than her breath, out of rhythm, with her lungs grasping for air.

Clint Barton stared right through her. Natasha would never forget the attack he lead on the Helicarrier in the events right before Loki's invasion of New York. Those crystal blue eyes, all that would let her tell the difference between the hawk who would give his life for her, and an emotionless man set on killing her.

Those same eyes had returned, as Natasha, the notorious Black Widow faced her only fear. When the idea came to interrogate Loki and discover his plans to release the Hulk, she had volunteered not for them, but for herself. She had known it was selfish and could risk the safety of everyone on board, but she had to know if he was okay. The god had said that he would use Barton to kill her, slowly, intimately, in every way he knew she feared. Natasha had never told anyone but Barton exactly what that fear was, and there, because of monsters and magic of all things, that would be her greatest mistake.

"_Just tell me Natasha, I would never hurt you," Barton said, rewrapping the bandages on his arm. After their near suicide mission to track down the head of an illegal transport business, he had gotten grazed by multiple bullets, and Natasha didn't look any better. When he had finished, he sat on the small safehouse bed beside her. The spy avoided eye contact and busied herself with cleaning the scrapes and bruises dotted across her small figure._

"_Tasha, please…" _

"_I…I was in Russia. Way before Budapest, I was in Russia taking random jobs, killing anyone they needed me to kill. I got the call to kidnap a man, a man who had done nothing wrong, but he was the brother of a rival company's leader. I asked why we couldn't just take out the leader, but my employer had replied, 'Widow, you have much to learn. Death is easy, but torture is permanent, and what better way to torture a man than to torture someone he loves?' That thought haunted me. I refused the job and that was why I was on the run." She looked up and her eyes were on the brink of tears," I push others out; I don't let them close to me. If I do, they'll only regret it."_

Barton advanced on her, then reached behind his shoulder, an action she had known for long. Every muscle always moved in the same pattern to grab a weapon not mastered by most, but deadly in his hand. He lifted the arrow from his quiver however, she noticed something. His muscles were trying to stop what his mind was telling him. A part of Clint, the real Clint, was inside screaming that this was wrong. That didn't stop Loki's commands, for that knowledge would only make her death more painful. He knocked his arrow and pulled back. Natasha closed her eyes, prepared to feel the impact of the arrow, but just as she heard the string be released, her eyes darted open to reveal that the horror was a only a nightmare. Her eyes adjusted as she looked at the sunlight pouring between the curtains in her "apartment". In Stark Tower, Tony had insisted that they all lived in the same building, but despite everyone's complaints and refusals, the Avengers all had managed to move into their own floor, 12 through 17.

Natasha sat up in the bed and quickly realized she wasn't in her room. She looked around and noticed their clothes sprawled across the floor, she recalled the night's previous events and she couldn't help the smile growing on her face. She had walked to his room to talk, but their following actions were anything but that. The spy turned to expect Clint beside her, but the bed sheets were empty. Her smile disappeared and she got out of the bed, retrieved her underwear and grabbed the shirt she had been wearing.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes Ms. Romanoff?"

"Did Clint leave the floor?"

"No Ms. Romanoff, Mr. Barton left for the kitchen about five minutes ago. Would you like me to retrieve him?"

"No, that's all, thanks," the electronic butler was on her list of the many things she would have to get used to in Stark Tower, besides Thor demanding Pop Tarts from the toaster and Bruce running from the lab, with a malfunctioning Iron Man suit chasing him.

Natasha sneaked out of the room, and slipped into the elevator, making sure Barton couldn't hear her footsteps. Once the doors closed and she repeatedly pushed the button to deliver her to the 16th floor where her apartment was, all she could do was think of that poor man, tortured just because his brother had an enemy set out to destroy him. She loved Clint, but she used all of her strength to bury those feelings deep inside her. Every time she snuck in his room, she tried to let the feelings surface, but with every nightmare, she tried to forget him. She wouldn't let herself but Barton in danger, and that meant giving into her fears, fears that meant making others feel her pain just because she held them close.


End file.
